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God.
I slipped my hand behind the waistband of my pants and rubbed the heel of my palm along the length of my dick. “There’s this spot where the neck meets the shoulder. I…I want you to kiss that, and bite it, and lick it.”
“You want me to leave marks?” he asked, his voice rough. I knew he was touching himself, and I would have killed to see it.
“Yes. Yes, I want to press down on the bruises the next morning to remind myself you were there. I want proof that you…” I stopped, but at his encouraging moan, I found the courage to be so honest it would kill me if he laughed. “I want proof that you think I’m beautiful.”
“I think you are so fucking beautiful,” he grunted. “Are you touching yourself, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I told him.
He moaned. “Tell me. Describe it to me.”
“I’m hard,” I said. “Really hard. My dick is hot, and it’s throbbing. I don’t know if I’ve ever been so turned on in my life.”
“Baby,” he whispered. “I can’t wait for that to be my hand, my mouth on you. I want to feast on your ass and worship your balls and suck your cock until you come down my throat.”
My face was white-hot with desire from his filthy words. I pulled my pants down around my thighs, then gripped myself tight and began to jerk off at a pace that made my elbow ache. “Forrest…”
“Yes. Faster,” he ordered.
Somehow, I managed it.
“Play with your balls, baby,” he added, and my other hand moved helplessly between my legs to cradle them and roll them in my palm. “Describe them.”
I was close to losing words. “Hot. Heavy. Need…needy.”
“Yes,” he hissed. “God, I want to spread you out on the bed with your ass up. I want to play with your hole so long you’re sobbing and begging.”
I let out a moan so loud it was likely the neighbors upstairs heard me. I rolled onto my side, my hips moving, fucking my fist now. “Please,” I begged.
“You want to come, sweetheart? You want to come all over yourself? All over your sheets?”
“Yes.”
“Then do it. Come for me. Show me how much you want me.”
On the edge of a cry, I let go. The orgasm tumbled through me like a slow roll of thunder, my eyes squeezing shut, my balls pulling up, my cock throbbing before it spilled over my hand. The wet, sticky fluid shot out, hitting the top of the blanket and smearing over my fingers, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about the mess.
What mattered is that I was right there next to Forrest, and I heard him losing his own control.
“Fuck. Fuck.Jules…”
He was calling my name as he came.
I started to ease down from the high, and where before shame would curl around me, now there was just satisfaction moving through bits of uncertainty. I heard Forrest moving around a little, likely cleaning up, but neither of us were brave enough to say anything right away.
The silence was too delicate to be shattered.
I closed my eyes, and though I didn’t know his face, I could almost feel the roughness of his hands on mine. Because they had to be rough. He carved wooden trinkets for me. And his face was probably covered in scruff, and I was willing to bet his hair was slightly coarse and unkempt.
God, I understood now. I understood how he could call me beautiful without seeing me, because so was he.
“I think I’m falling for you.” The words tumbled from my lips, and I didn’t even try to stop them.
I heard nothing but silence for so long I wondered if maybe I’d gone too far.
And then his voice returned the words I so desperately needed to hear. “Oh, sweetheart. I know for a fact I’ve already fallen.”
